tions, logically applied; Shakespeare's plays and poems would inevitably be placed on the fatal Index; and, in the realm of literature alone, the merely personal views or incompetency of an official could produce an intolerable result. The department is the servant, not the mentor, of the public; and the principle of the least possible interference with private rights should prevail.

MR. SYDNEY BROOKS, in his article on "The Irish Question" in the current number of THE FORUM, emphasizes the change that has taken place in the material welfare of Ireland. She is not only more prosperous than she has ever been before, "but is absolutely prosperous-rather more than four million people handling an export and import trade of over $600,000,000 a year. The whole level of her social and economic life has been sensibly raised during the past two decades; and when Home Rule becomes a fact, and the passions stirred up by it have subsided, it looks as though the many factors that are making for reconciliation and material progress would be appreciably reinforced. Ireland, indeed, is so well off that many people believe she no longer cares about Home Rule, and that, having got the land, the average Nationalist farmer would be quite content to call a halt to all political controversy." Mr. John Redmond, speaking a little while ago, endorsed this view of the prosperity of the country. Ireland, he said, was no longer distressful, but alert, self-confident, self-reliant, thanks to the settlement of the land question, the university question and the institution of a comprehensive system of local self-government. But he did not admit that the people had been weaned in any way from the idea of national self-government: they only felt keener to secure it and more fitted to carry it to a successful realization. The evidence with regard to the well-being of the country will bring satisfaction to her millions of friends and expatriated children. The final accomplishment of Home Rule and the continuance of the present English attitude of conciliation and friendship should lead to an era that will blot out unhappy memories and redeem the deplorable tragedies of the past. Every quarrel ended, every just grievance righted, must be

earnestly welcomed by those who wish to give to civilization more and more of its true significance. Men and womenmust consider themselves citizens of "no mean city," of no little, jealous State; their sympathies should be wide enough to include the greater sense of internationalism, which is in no way inconsistent with true patriotism, but gives to the ideals and duties of nationality and liberty their fullest meaning and value.

THE defeat of the new charter for New York City, so strongly supported by the Mayor and Mr. Murphy, is satisfactory so far as it goes. The State and the Legislature are not yet completely in the hands of an irresponsible dictator, holding his position without any mandate from the people and in direct violation of the whole spirit of American and republican institutions. With proper leaders, the electorate can be taught that to submit to the despotism of a shameless, "grafting" institution such as Tammany Hall, is as degrading to the individual as it is menacing to the community.

Now that the football season is in full swing again, it is desirable to emphasize a fact which has been repeatedly mentioned, and repeatedly forgotten: the value of a game does not lie only in its result as measured by points. Football is primarily an exercise, thoughtfully designed to occupy some of the attention and provide a harmless outlet for some of the energy of young men who are still wise enough to appreciate such an aid to right living. But those who have watched professional games at their best, and have seen how a country clodhopper can learn to discard his ungainliness of movement and to acquire a skill and grace comparable in their kind with that of a Mordkin, have realized that there is a definite æsthetic value in games, while their mental and physical training is of undisputed importance. But far more should be left to the initiative of the men on the field; they should not be reduced to the position of a human machine responding almost automatically to the orders of the coaches. The more open the game, and the more unrestrictedly the players are left, on the field, to the exercise of their own initiative and rapid judgment, the better for all con

cerned. To desire victory, and to shun defeat, is natural and admirable; but to appreciate an afternoon of healthful and sane exercise, to be aware of the fitness of mind and body that comes from deeds well and truly done, to recognize that a game is neither a tragedy nor an exhibition of mechanical drillingthese are the essential points.

MR. ARNOLD BENNETT, the author of The Old Wives' Tale, Clayhanger and Hilda Lessways, was born in Burslem, England-one of a group of towns known collectively as the Potteries, and recently united to form one administrative centre. The manufacture of earthenware and china is the staple industry, inseparably connected with the name of the great Josiah Wedgwood. In each of the associated towns there is a large number of "" potbanks or "works," ranging from somewhat ancient and dilapidated structures to modern factories of the finest type. There are many collieries and ironworks in the district and the general atmosphere resembles that of Pittsburgh, with a pall of smoke by day, and furnace-flames on the horizon at night. Yet within easy range is some of the finest country scenery of England.

This industrial hive, with its provincialisms, its busy life, its special types of character and its distinctive interests and habits, has provided material and environment for most of Mr. Bennett's books, under the well-known name of "The Five Towns." It is a district singularly rich in suggestion for a mind so singularly observant and receptive as Mr. Bennett's; a district associated with hard-headed business men, and, for many years, with special religious fervor and activity. Here was one of the great strongholds of the free churches, especially the Methodists -the Wesleyan Methodists, the Primitive Methodists, the New Connexion Methodists.

From the beginning of his literary career, Mr. Bennett identified himself with his native place. The practice of the legal profession had taken him to London; but he soon abandoned this career and became a journalist, an editor, a novelist, a playwright, and finally, after residing in France, an international celebrity. There has been no indecision in his life; he did

THE FORUM

FOR DECEMBER 1911

H

THE GLAMOUR OF THE SNOW

ALGERNON BLACKWOOD

IBBERT, always conscious of two worlds, was in this mountain village conscious of three. It lay on the Italian side of the Alps, and he had taken a room in the little post-office where he could be at peace to write his book, yet at the same time enjoy the winter sports and find companionship in the hotels when he wanted it.

The three worlds that met and mingled here seemed to his imaginative temperament very obvious, though it is doubtful if another mind less intuitively equipped would have seen them so well-defined. There was the world of the tourist English, civilized, quasi-educated, to which he belonged by birth at any rate; there was the world of peasants, to which he felt himself drawn by sympathy for he loved and admired their toiling, simple life; and there was this other-which he could only call the world of Nature. To this last, however, in virtue of a vehement poetic imagination, and a tumultuous pagan instinct fed by his very blood, he felt that most of him belonged. The others borrowed from it, as it were, for visits. Here, with the soul of Nature, hid his central life.

Between all three was conflict-potential conflict. On the skating-rink each Sunday the tourists regarded the natives as intruders; in the church the peasants plainly questioned: "Why do you come? We are here to worship; you to stare and whisper!" For neither of these two worlds accepted the other. And neither did Nature accept the tourists, for it took advantage of their least mistakes, and indeed, even of the peasant-world, "accepted" only those who were strong and bold enough to